A Letter from Lobilia
by Old Tommy B
Summary: Post-War. Lobila hasn't bothered Frodo for some time, but now sends a letter.


Author: Old Tommy B.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A Letter From Lobilia

It was spring in the Shire, and Frodo Baggins watched the community of Hobbitton through his window with detatched contentment. Less than a year had passed since Saruman's reign over the hobbits had been ended, and already life seemed to be returning to normal.

The recently restored master of Bag End gazed out across the rolling meadows. These hills had once been dotted with maples-Frodo could still remember learning to tap them, and distill their resin into sweet, sticky syrup. Such trees would not grow back in a year, but he knew that already the seeds were planted, and future generations would know the same verdant Shire which he so fondly recalled. In the meantime, carefully trimmed grass was already beginning to cover the bare fields of lifeless dirt which had scarred the land under Saruman's program of industrialization. Samwise Gamgee had made it his first (and for some time, his only) priority to grow back the greenery that was lost, especially around Bag End.

As he was gazing out the window, Frodo noticed the postman approaching. He thought of going to the door and saying hello, but decided against it. Frodo was still in a contemplative mood, and was a poor one for small talk even at hisbest.

He watched and waited until the postman was out of sight, then went to his door to retrive his mail. He recived little these days, having become something of a recluse since his return. Like his Uncle Bilbo, some people whispered, and the thought of the venerable hobbit brought a wry smile to Frodo's face.

The smile vanished as he looked at the single letter in his hands. In weak, shakey writing, his name and address were carefullywritten: FRODO BAGGINS, BAG END, HOBBITTON, in the SHIRE. In the upper left corner no address, but only a name: LOBILIA SACKVILLE-BAGGINS.

Frodo and Lobilia had declared an unspoken truce since his return. He could still remember helping her out of the Lockholes. He still remembered how weak she was, unable to stand without his support. It was the only time Frodo had ever seen her to show any weakness at all.

A few days after that, she had approached Frodo and, without any preamble, thrust the deed and key to Bag End into his hands. Before Frodo could say anything, she had loudly announced, "I can't stand to live in that hole of yours any more. It's to big for an old hobbit like me."

She spun and walked quickly away, and Frodo thought he heard her whisper the word "alone," as she turned. Although she had managed to mantain her composture in front of Frodo, he could hear her weeping softly as she hurried off. Frodo's eyes had misted over then as well. He knew how much Lotho had meant to her, and how much grief the news of his death must have brought.

She had gone to live with her relatives, and Frodo thought of her often, but he had never tried to contact her. Part of him wanted to talk, andtryto workthings out between them, but he did not relish the prospect of dealing with the old hobbit. Besides, he had rationalized, she's very old, and she's living with her family now. She's probably never even given me a secondthought.

As he was pondering his tumultuous relationship with Lobilia, he realized that he had put down the letter, taken his pot off the fire, and fixed himself a cup of tea. He sat down in his most comfortable chair, took a rather large sip of the drink (Still to weak he thought, and grimaced), and opened the letter.

It read:

Frodo,  
I'm not writing this to try to befriend you.

-Frodo smiled as he read-it was, after all, exactly the sort of thing Lobilia would have said if she were there herself.

I'm only writing this at all because I'm old. To old. I'll probably be gone before I can see another spring. So, I feel I must write before it's to late.

I'm writing to you to apologize.

-Frodo had begun to cry as he read, but his smile remained. He could see there was a large space between the words "to," and "apologize." He could all too clearly see the old hobbit pausing to grimace as she wrote.

I want to apologize for the way I treated you, and your uncle. I know I acted poorly towards you both, and it was all over something as silly as a piece of property. I'm old enough now to see the folly of my actions, and I now know that I made your life and my own miserable in lusting after that hole.

That's not to say that you and your uncle aren't and weren't a couple of the queerest folk I ever laid eyes on.

-The tears were flowing freely, but Frodo burst into laughter nonetheless. Steaming trails dripped off his cheeks, and he dabbed at them in vain with his handkerchief as he finished the letter.

Old Bilbo, especially. I never saw a stranger one than he in my life. You and your rowdy company of hooligans and miscreants are the only ones who even gave him a run for his money.

But that doesn't mean I had the right to be as cruel as I was, or to be such a miserable nuciance to you and him. I'm sorry.

I would like it very much if you came to visit me sometime soon. I'm getting along as well as my old bones allow, but I'm afraid that's not well enough to come to Bag End myself. Still, I think of you and Bilbo every day, and would like totry and smooth things out between us.

Lobilia Sackville-Baggins.

P.S. I am sorry about your trees. I hope the maples I'm told you were so fond of grow back soon. As long as I'm making peace, I may as well admit that that Samwise of yours is perhaps the best gardener I've ever known. The queerest duck in the Shire outside of you, perhaps, but a fine gardener.

Frodo sat in his chair for a long time, laughing and crying in equal measure. Still chuckling through his sobs, he carefully refolded the letter, put it back in its envelope, and took it to his bedroom. There, he placed it in his old footlocker, where he kept his most treasured posessions.

There was a knock at the door, and Frodo went to get it. Standing on his step, dressed in rather more subdued clothing than usual, were Sam, Merry, and Pippin. Sam could clearly see that something was wrong, and remained silent (thought his concern was evident). The other two seemed not to notice.

"Well Frodo," began Merry, "the service is in less than an hour. Will you be coming to see her off?"

Pippin added "At last," under his breath, but a sharp elbow from Merry silenced him. Sam asked, "Is anything all right, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo nodded, then shook his head. Sam tried again. "You know no one will think less of you if you don't go. All the Shire knows that you and her had a rocky time of it."

Frodo smiled again, through watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks. This time, it was a smile of acceptance.

"No Sam." Frodo had heard only the day before that the oldhobbit had passed away, quietly, in her sleep. "I think I shall go pay my respects to Lobilia."

End 


End file.
